Bold in Deed
by Androktones
Summary: Inquisitor Trevelyan wants to try something new with her lover. In response to the tumblr prompt, "tell me how to use my mouth". Rated M for sexual activity.


A/N: Crossposted on AO3 and tumblr. I hope you enjoy!

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"Bold in Deed"

Her rooms in Skyhold _are _quite nice, the Inquisitor is forced to admit, though she doesn't get to spend very much time enjoying them.

But sitting at her desk, as the evening sun begins to disappear over the crest of the Frostbacks, the walls are awash in golden orange light. Flowers, which arrive almost daily from various diplomats, nobles and Chantry officials, are on the mantle, and the scent of the Andraste's grace tucked within one of the vases tickles her nose. Barefoot, with her hair loose and still a little damp from her bath (her reward upon returning from the Hissing Wastes), she eyes the stacks of missives, maps, and reports strewn across the tabletop. A sigh.

"Well, no time like the present, I suppose…"

Plucking up a piece of rolled parchment, the Inquisitor unfurls it and reads aloud:

"We, the members of the Western Tevinter Trading Company, humbly request blah blah blah…as a token of our appreciation, please find attached…mmhmm…be advised, however, that we will require…no, thank you."

She places the document to the side and picks up another, breaking the wax seal. A sip of coffee (she has picked up a fondness for the stuff after being introduced by Josephine and she's _tired_), and she begins to speak again:

"'Modest in temper, bold in deed'…Oh _hell_…Dearest daughter, imagine my surprise to hear not only that you attended the Empress's ball at the Winter Palace, but that you saved her life! You must tell me more…mmhmm, sure, yes…and what is this about a dance with your Commander on a balcony? Darling, I know you are inexperienced with men…Andraste, _why?_...and while I'm sure he's very dashing, he is Fereldan and you are not…oh mother, how could I forget with such charming letters from home?...You simply must come for a visit soon. Little Genevieve is almost walking, and Lady Marguerite's son is asking after you…while we didn't expect marriage and grandchildren from you, your position as Inquisitor greatly improves your prospects…_Maker have mercy_."

The door to the Great Hall opens and a voice echoes up the stairwell, "is this a bad time?"

A smile breaks across her face despite the letter and she calls out, "of course not, Cullen. Just reading some reports."

The waning sunlight turns his hair to molten gold as he walks toward her, stepping around her dusty boots strewn in front of the fireplace.

"How are they going?"

She sighs. "The Western Tevinter Trading Company wants us to send troops to protect their shipments from Qunari raiding parties, and my mother is as enchanting as ever. That is about as much I have read thus far…tell me, Commander, is it too early to go to bed?"

He chuckles warmly and places the sheaf of papers he holds down on the clearest corner of her desk which, admittedly, isn't that clear. Trevelyan pushes her chair back and walks around to where he stands. Things between them are still new, they've been…well, _together_, only a handful of times, and his presence still makes her stomach clench and her lips tingle.

"Now," she murmurs, "to what do I owe the pleasure of your company on this delightful evening?"

She cranes to kiss his cheek as Cullen turns his head to nod at the reports that he's just placed on her desk, and their lips meet, softly, gingerly, and it is unintended but lovely. Trevelyan sighs, presses her mouth to his and withdraws, flushing a little, to meet his eyes.

"Erm, yes," he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck, and his ears are pink, "A variety of things, I'm afraid. Reports from Rylen are on the top. I've dealt with most of them already, but these need your signature, and the newest requisition requests are on the bottom. They don't have anything too unusual on them and…"

He keeps talking, but she is tantalized by the movement of his mouth, the way the scar which marks his upper lip stretches when he speaks, the smell of soap and his aftershave and the faintest hint of his afternoon tea on his breath.

"…so Leliana will be sending two of her agents to the Western Approach and…why do I get the feeling that you aren't listening to me?"

She kisses him again and murmurs "because I wasn't" against his lips.

"Ah" and a kiss to his cheek "I see" another kiss to his temple "how much" she kisses his chin "my military expertise" and she presses her lips against his throat "matters-"

And when she is moving to kiss the line of his linen shirt peeking over his armor he twines his fingers in her still-damp hair and tilts her head up to meet his lips. She sighs when his other arm wraps around her waist and he parts her mouth to his. The Inquisitor's posture goes liquid and she sags against the plane of his chest, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders. Cullen nips at her lower lip and she sweeps her tongue into the hot cavern of his mouth.

"How long has it been?" he whispers against her lips.

"Two weeks. Too long. Forever."

His laugh rumbles darkly in his chest and she kisses him again, placing her palms flat against his plate mail and pushing him back towards her ornate Orlesian bed.

"Don't you have reports to do?"

"They'll keep," she replies, fingers drifting towards the buckles of his armor, "and I want you."

He smiles and runs his fingers through her hair, cupping the back of her skull as he kisses her again.

Cullen's cuirass clangs against the flagstones and she pulls the waistband of his shirt from his trousers and up over his head, running her fingernails over the planes of his abdomen and chest. She pushes again, and he, laughing, falls to a seated position on the edge of the bed. Bent over him, Trevelyan kisses his mouth, and lower to the scar at the center of his chest, where the sparse golden hair tickles her lips, and then lower, just above his bellybutton and, on her knees now, lower still, to the trail of darkening hair, her fingers teasing at the edge of his trousers and…

"Love?"

His voice is strangled, and she peeks up at him between her lashes. His cheeks are flushed and the golden eyes she adores so much are heavy and hot on her skin. She can feel the heat of his cock through his trousers, and she kisses him again, building up her daring to do something she hasn't done before, but _desires_…

"Cullen," she whispers against the flat plane of his abdomen, "I had a thought in the Hissing Wastes…"

His bared hand cups her naked breast, and she looks down, startled to find her shirt unbuttoned and hanging loose around her shoulders. When did he undo her blouse? The Inquisitor meets his eyes and he winks, tweaking a pebbled nipple and the movement sends heat arcing hot to her rapidly-dampening smalls.

"You were saying?" Cullen murmurs, peeling her shirt away from her shoulders and dropping it onto the floor.

"I was saying that I had a thought…alone, in my tent, at night…thinking of you…"

She feels his cock twitch against her where she kneels between his legs and his flush creeps up his throat.

"Yes?" he whispers.

She begins to peel his trousers away from his hips and she catches his smalls together with the fabric and then his cock, hard and hot and _delectable _springs free and curves against his stomach as she licks her lips.

"Cullen," she says, eyes warm and desirous, "I want you to tell me how to use my mouth."

A shiver runs the length of his body and he lets out a shuddering breath.

"Sweet Maker…I don't, you're the Herald…"

Grasping the base of his cock, heavy and hot in her hand, she exhales, her breath ghosting over the tip.

"The Herald," she whispers, "who is also just a woman, a woman who wants your thick-" she presses kiss to the skin of his inner thigh, "hard-" and higher, "amazing-" and even higher "_delicious_ cock in her mouth, and wants to know how to bring you pleasure."

Then she presses a kiss to the tip of his member, where arousal is gathering already in a pearly bead, and she opens her lips, sucking gently.

"Yes," he murmurs, "like that," and he cups her breast with fingers splayed as she opens wider, taking more of his length into the tight heat of her mouth.

The fingers of Cullen's other hand wrap in her hair and he presses gently. Trevelyan swallows and drops further, until the head of his cock bumps against the back of her throat, and she wraps her other hand around the base, around the inches she can't accommodate between her lips.

Cullen's fingers tighten, he pulls up and she rises, hollowing her cheeks on the upstroke. She twists her hand, moving from the base to the tip, following the course of her mouth. He gasps and she flicks her eyes to his face. While she expected to see Cullen's eyes closed, they are open and roiling with heat, intent on her movements.

"Maker," he whispers as she sinks back onto his length, "the _sight _of you, love…so beautiful…"

She hums in pleasure, bobbing on his thick, hot length and his hand on her breast tightens. Cullen fills her mouth so perfectly, and she can feel him swell even further between her lips.

"Faster," he grits out, and his fingers pull tight, guiding her movements. She closes her eyes, swirling her tongue around the head of his cock as she rises and falls, as he shudders. Trevelyan moans around his thick cock as he palms her breast, and as she grips his hip with one hand, she cups his balls other.

"Yes, _fuck_," he hisses between gritted teeth, and his hand on her breast clenches almost too tight as she picks up the pace, as she squeezes her thighs together in an attempt to soothe the ache building between them.

"I'm about to-" he manages, releasing her hair so that she can move away, but the thought of his coming undone, and coming undone at _this _sets a fire in her belly and between her legs and she picks up the pace. Suddenly Cullen goes rigid and groans, his hand fisting in her unbound hair, and the taste of him, bitter but not unpleasant, floods her mouth as she sinks as far onto his cock as she can, drawing him into the back of her mouth as the hot rush of his seed arcs down her throat.

"_Maker…_"

She licks him clean as she rises, pressing her tongue into the slit at the head which earns her a shiver. Cullen hooks his arms beneath her and tightens, pulling her up to sit astride his lap.

"Thank you," he murmurs against her throat, "I've never-"

She presses an open-mouthed kiss to the place where his pulse is leaping beneath his skin.

"I enjoyed it," she whispers, "and you do the same for me."

His smile is predatory as he tosses her back against the mattress, pressing his body over hers as he kisses one breast, then the other.

"I do," he says, dipping his tongue into her bellybutton as his hand slips beneath her smalls, "and I will."

She shivers as his warm breath hits her naked skin.

The reports never did get done.

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